


Breathing In Lightning

by Vagrant_Blvrd



Series: Kings of Nowhere [19]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe-GTA V, Fake AH Crew, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 01:39:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14033367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagrant_Blvrd/pseuds/Vagrant_Blvrd
Summary: The way things go in Los Santos -Well.Everyone knows about the Vagabond, you see.





	Breathing In Lightning

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for Anon who asked for assassin Gavin being scarier than the Vagabond. :D?

The way things go in Los Santos - 

Well.

Everyone knows about the Vagabond, you see. 

This man who walks the city's streets with that mask of his and the skull painted on his face that's changed over the years. Gone from the eye-catching red-white-black to something more subtle, a sign of someone who's settled into their role as one of Los Santos' most terrifying inhabitants.

But the thing of it is, you know when the Vagabond's about. See him coming because that's what the Vagabond meant for. You call the Vagabond when you want to send a message, make a statement. Let people know what's headed their way, that they should have thought twice before making enemies in this city.

(Everyone knows about the Vagabond.)

For something a little more...subtle, discreet, you'll want someone else.

But here's the problem, little spot of difficulty in a place like Los Santos - 

He doesn't have a name like the Vagabond. Doesn't have a mask, or a twisted visage of a skull painted on his face, no.

He's a dozen different names that he'll offer up to the people who seek him out and every single one of them false. A dozen different phone numbers leading to dead ends and frustration. A dead drop somewhere along the information highway – ones and zeroes – and only the most clever can ever find him.

He's a figure no one looks twice at in a city like this because everyone's focused on the Vagabond and others like him. The ones who have Names, Reputations, _Legacies_ , earned by proving their worth in a place that understands violence in all its forms like no other.

They're watching for the skull mask or a snarling wolf's head. Baffling combination of colors that should be comical, mocked mercilessly, but in Los Santos things work differently, don't they?

So this man without a name, he's a mystery, an enigma.

Quicksilver smile and sly eyes, and you always have the feeling he's laughing at something. (You, perhaps, or maybe it's a funny joke he's thinking of. There's no real way to be sure.)

Steady hands and a good eye, and it's said if you put a sniper rifle in his hands he never misses. 

Never misses, never hesitates.

Success rate to match the infamous Vagabond's and there's only a handful of people in the world who have seen him at work and lived to tell the tale. (No naming names, though, as there's a limit as to how many people can keep a secret.)

They say he's taken a liking to knives in recent times, fancy little things with a bit of gold to them. Not quite a calling card, but the ones who know about him _know_. 

The thing of it is, with him, is that you never know when he's about. Never see him coming because that's not what he's meant for. 

You call him when you want things done quietly, discreetly. Nothing to warn people what's headed their way. Let them know that they should have thought twice before making enemies in this city.

Los Santos holds such reverence for Names and Reputations and Legacies, but it doesn't honor the dead. Doesn't remember you when you're nothing more than a headline in the papers and a segment on the news, a sad commentary of a troubled soul whose life was cut short with little fanfare.

Easily overshadowed by a man with a mask and all the other colorful characters in the city – the living with their Names and Reputations and Legacies. 

(To be so utterly forgotten in a city like this is the real tragedy.)


End file.
